The Confederate Soldier
by Jewell Trim
Summary: What if the seven had a different member and the beginning. What if the final seventh came in during the fighting in Seminole.
1. Chapter 1

Horses moved slowly along, carrying their tired and hungry riders through the harsh summer heat. Their hooves kicked up dust around them and it stayed in the air, making some of the men cough. One of the men swatted at the dust landing on his uniform, trying without success to keep his uniform looking semi-decent. In the distance one of his fellow soldiers called out that there was a village up ahead. The colonel turned his men in that direction so they would hit it dead on.

 _Finally,_ I thought, _a possible decent meal and a place to rest._ I looked over to my commanding officer. The guy was old with his gray hair, but he moved with a purpose that no man should question. After watching the colonel take to a dark colored bottle a couple of times, I started to grow suspicious as to why the man was acting different. Years riding together, I knew this man well, and even owed him my life when he saved me from the damned Yankees, but now he acted like he was haunted by something.

Turning back to look ahead, I noticed that the village we were approaching was run by Indians. My hope for a day of rest was dashed then and I went back to trying to get rid of the dust on my jacket.

The village looked to be in the midst of celebrating when we rode in, and I didn't miss the small group making their way up into a house amidst the rocks. An old Indian man with white hair took up position in front of his people. Other elderly people watched further back, and I saw the occasional darkie among them. The hairs on the back of my head stood on end and I sat a little straighter in my saddle.

"What is this place called?" I asked, my southern accent no doubt making the darkies worried.

"We are Seminole. This is our home." Answered the old Indian.

Darcy, on the other side of the Colonel, chuckled and turned to his commanding officer. "We ran into a bunch like this out in Florida." He spat rudely into the ground, "Before the war, bunch of half breed trash, Colonel. Filthy mix of outlaw Indians and runaway slaves."

I kept my disgust of the Sergeant Darcy's words from showing on my face. The man was just bitter about our loss, and continued to think that he was better than everybody that didn't look like him. Sighing, I heard the calm voice of the Colonel address me.

"You know what to do Captain."

"Yes sir," I spoke softly with a tip of my hat. I turned a little to address the men, and taking a deep breath, gave orders, "Company! Dismount."

"Take food and supplies." Ordered the colonel, "I respect no man's law but my own." He pointed to the Indian chief and fixed him with a sneer, "You can thank your Yankee Carpet Bagger government for compensation. And you tell 'em. The ghost of the Confederate will not die."

I walked around with the reins of my horse as I watched my fellow soldiers roughly pull weapons from desperate Indians trying to defend their property. Animals squealed as they were snatched up and tossed into cages before being thrown into the wagon. Wiping my face with a wet handkerchief, I tried to get rid of some of the dirt on me. It was only a distraction so I wouldn't have to see frail structures torn down and the face of the little children as they cried. A woman, I saw earlier, had went into a house and was followed by one of my men who I knew was nothing but trouble. He even rode his horse into the wooden structure. I made my way over to make sure he was following orders. As I approached, I could hear someone struggling. The colonel appeared and put his hand up for me to stop. He walked inside and there was a little more of a scuffle before I heard the colonel say something before a shot was fired. When only the colonel walked out with the fleeing darkie woman, I knew who was dead. He ordered for some men to bring something out of the house and soon, an old piano appeared.

It reminded me of times when I was back in Saint Louis, before the war.

 _The sound of the grand piano was playing in the background, as the musician tickled the ivories. I sat at a felt covered table with four other gentlemen, playing for a nice size pot. When they called, I presented them a full house and didn't bother to hide my smile as I raked it all in. That was the night I had lost my tooth. In the fight right after the card game._

 _When I returned to the boarding house I was renting, my mother was astonished._

 _"My dear boy, how many times have I told you that appearances are everything." She said with more concern then for my well-fare._

 _"No worries mother. I will make an appointment to visit a dentist." I said with a little grimace. I hated the dentist like a lot of people, but after one bad trip when I was little. I would rather have some drunk pull out all my teeth before letting a dentist near my mouth. However, my mother expected things to look perfect, and taking the other route would probably have her not associating with me for the rest of our lives. Not that we spend that much time together._

 _The next morning, I went to see the dentist in town. I requested for a new tooth to be put in, seeing how the oaf that had knocked out the original, decided to keep it as a trophy. After deciding what I want and a couple of hours of pain later, I was walking out with my new tooth. Gold. I actually think that my mother liked the new look, but she warned me of smiling too wide and showing it. Someone might think to knock that one out and take it for the money._

My tongue ran absent-mindedly over my gold tooth as I listened to the colonel force a darkie old man to play the piano for him.

Another soldier nearby pulled a clay pot from an elderly Indian woman and looked inside. "Ain't nothing but a bunch of dirt." He spat.

He smashed it into pieces when he threw it on the ground.

 _Why? Why must you act so barbaric? Are we not supposed to be better?_

The gasp of the Indians made me understand that, though it was dirt, it must've been sacred to them.

"Colonel!" called Sergeant Darcy, waving a weird mask, "Look what I found." He ran down to show off his find, but the colonel stopped him with a raised hand until he finished singing his song with the piano. When he was done he turned to the one eyed sergeant. "Is that what I think it is, sir?"

The way the colonel's fingers ran over the mask made me think he wasn't appreciating the craftsmanship of the piece.

"This is the face of our new land." Explained the chief.

"Gold." Colonel said almost in reverence, "Ancient alchemist thought that they could turn lead into gold, but I know I can turn gold into bullets." He walked with determined steps and ordered for the cannon to be brought around. I followed him, ready to stop him. A single shot was fired, destroying an adobe house on a hill. The village people all huddled in fear.

"Reload." Ordered the colonel before stepping up to the chief. "I'd appreciate it if you told me where your gold is coming from."

"There's no more."

"No, of course there isn't. I guess we need another demonstration." He nodded to the men and Sergeant Darcy ordered for them to swing the cannon around.

They turned it to a group of innocent people huddled by the piano. A woman was carrying her screaming baby, ducked behind the man she was standing next to.

Stepping forward, I took the risk of trying to stop there from being any blood from being spilled.

"I'm afraid I must insist on an answer." Said the colonel, losing his patience.

"We have no more gold." Said the chief desperately. He was now being restrained by two confederates.

The colonel shook his head and gave the order. I put my hand up to stop them from lighting the fuse.

"No, wait. What if, sir, these people are telling the truth and there isn't anymore." I said, trying to reason with the man.

"If we have money for arms, there are thousands, living under the heels of the Yankees who would be willing to join us. Now step aside captain. We will find that gold."

The fuse was lit and only seconds stood from a group of innocent lives from being blown apart.

"There's a mine!" called the chief, trying to move the cannon, "There's a mine in the hill."

The colonel shifted the cannon just before it went off, sending the ball into the dirt. A cloud of dust rose and I squinted, trying not to get any of it into my eyes. The colonel seemed pleased with himself as he placed his hat back on his head and turned to the sergeant.

"Alright men, mount up."

My fellow soldiers climbed on the back of their horses and packed the rest of the stolen goods in the wagon.

The colonel looked back at the chief, "We will return in seven days. That hole," he pointed to the box we left, "better be filled with gold, or we will fill it with your blood."

The chief turned his gaze at me and I looked away, "Company! Move out!" I ordered. I turned my horse away, following the others.

The only thing I could do was pray that those people were wise and left before the colonel had us return.


	2. Chapter 2

While we camped out in the open plain, I couldn't help but pull out the worn deck of cards I carried in my pocket. I shuffled the deck in my hand as I stared into the fire that was built a few feet away. The sounds of some of the men coughing and snoring was all I could hear over the sounds of the crackling fire. Laying on my bedroll, I tried to think of better times. When I slept on feather downed pillows and soft beds. The feel of a woman next to him. Sighing, I readjusted my head on my saddle and closed my eyes.

 _"Ezra," came a woman's voice, "Ezra. Stop playing like you're asleep."_

 _A playful swat to my bare chest made me break my expressionless features and turned it into a smile as I laughed. I lifted myself up a little to capture her lips before resting my head back down. Her fingers ran across my chest and I lifted one of my hands to play with her hair. My green eyes stared at the wavy locks that cascaded over her form before her head came to rest on my shoulder._

 _"Will you forget me?" she asked in an almost inaudible voice._

 _"Never."_

 _"Promise?"_

I opened my eyes and looked up into the night sky and silently named stars. Over a hundred times had I wished that I was in the arms of comfort. The war was over, yet I was tied to the fate of this group. The question of why I even signed up in the first place for the war had me staying up late most nights. Fear of the slaves who were seeking their freedom. Me being a southern boy with a southern accent. They would falsely associate me with probably owning slaves. I hadn't, but I knew people who had. Friends that I had known for years. Though I was never okay with what they were doing, I never spoke up about it. Then I witnessed my friend being killed by slaves who rebelled. It scared the hell out of me, and I feared I'd be next, but they only stepped over me and walked away. After that, I kept my distance from the half of the country that was now considered free. To join a fight to keep them in slavery was not exactly what I was fighting for. I didn't believe any man should own another, but after pretending for years that I did, probably wouldn't sit well with any ex-slave. So I fought with those who wanted slavery, only for the sake of staying alive. My mother thought it was dangerous to go into a war where few came out alive, but there were the perks of money and riches found along the way.

What we did today was not like that at all. They stole from those who barely had anything. Sure, my mother would win the shirt off the man she was playing against in a card game, but I wasn't like that. After that, all I could think about were the faces of those people and the cries of the baby and children. Instead of the comfort of a woman's touch, I had the guilt that suffocated me to fall asleep to.

Colonel Anderson took myself and Sergeant Darcy into his tent to go over what the plans were. Darcy, being the scrawny bastard he was, wanted to go in and kill them all off. I opted that we just reason with them, holding in my hope that they would flee before we got back.

"You know what your problem is, Standish." Sneered Darcy.

"If I wanted your opinion then I would've asked for it. Seeing how I haven't, please continue to keep your thoughts to your person." I said with a glare to the other man.

"We leave in a few days." Colonel Anderson said, getting our attention.

"What about giving them seven days?" I asked, frowning.

"They don't deserve even that." Huffed Darcy.

"If they're doing what they're told then there won't be a problem. If they're trying something, then we'll have to deal with it."

"'Deal with it'?"

The smile I got from Darcy was enough to know what he meant.

Stepping out of the colonel's tent Darcy gave him a crooked grin before walking away. I watched with disapproval before looking back to see the colonel drinking from the bottle I had seen earlier. He wondered if the pain in the man's leg had grown worse. The colonel never said anything, but there were clear signs of pain etched in his face. After making it a point to read people, I knew the man was slowly losing it, that and he was in a great deal of pain that he suppressed with whatever he was drinking.


	3. Chapter 3

We rode into the village for a second time in days. Formation kept like before. From what I could spot from a distance, it was empty which made me relieved. When we stopped our horses, we looked around. Colonel told me to check the box we had left and I climbed down off of my horse. I was expecting it to be empty, but went ahead and walked over to it. Inside it was full of sand and I dusted my gloved hands off.

"My instructions couldn't have been more explicit." Murmured the colonel.

"You were very explicit, colonel." I said, climbing back onto my horse. Maybe we would just continue on riding since there was no one left to threaten with death.

"And yet, for some reason, my orders were not carried out." He sat straighter in his saddle, "I have shot my own men, for less!" he growled. His voice echoed on the bare rock formation. I flinched a little at his words, knowing what he did to deserters.

I was surprised to see someone stand up on the roof of one of the adobe houses with a rifle in hand. While the colonel talked to him, I noticed six more people appear in different areas around us. I began to grow nervous. These weren't Indians or darkies. Well one was a darkie. Had the people in this village rode out for help in that short amount of time? How many guns were there now?

The colonel turned to me and lowered his voice. "Shoot them down, captain."

 _Hell, I want to get out of this alive._ Taking a deep breath, I made sure not to reach for my gun first. That would get me killed real quick, "Company! Fire!"

The hired men all went down for cover when I gave the order. Bullets flew as the fight began. I pulled out my own gun to defend the colonel. From what I saw in all the chaos, some of the men were shooting at fake people, made from straw with faces and clothes on. Our men fell around us from the well-placed shots of our enemies. I kept myself out of the thick of it, trying to just survive. Indians then came out with bows and arrows, dropping a few other of the men. When one of the soldiers looked around to escape in all the chaos, Colonel Anderson cursed him before shooting him dead. I tried to stop him, but I was too late. Suggesting a retreat, I was relieved when he called to sound the alarm that we were to draw back. A net was drawn over the only way out and some of the horses came to an abrupt halt, throwing off their riders.

The colonel was yelling for them to cut it down. I looked over my shoulder and noticed our vulnerable position as more of our men were killed. When the net was cut down and removed, we rode out quickly with the trumpet blaring.

When we stopped for, the colonel was pissing angry.

"We should go back. Kill them all." Darcy said from beside the entrance of the tent. I looked back at him as if he were crazy. Now was not the time to be seeking revenge and risk more lives. It made me wonder about the company I keep.

"We ride back tomorrow. Get them when their guard is down." Anderson said finally. "Ezra, get the men ready."

I gave a shard nod, "Yes sir."

Walking back out, I saw some of the men hunched over campfires. They looked like hollowed versions of themselves. Years of the war and then continue on that ride with a man on a suicide mission for revenge. Sighing, I informed some men what was to happen and told them to tell the others.

Dropping down on my bedroll, I wondered if this was to be the last fight. It sure seemed like it. The problem was whether or not I was going to stick around to see its end. Hell, I wanted to ride out now, but that'd be asking to be hunted down for the rest of my life by those that did survive. Those men who fought for the Indians and darkies, I wondered at their story. Why they had signed on for something they probably wouldn't get much out of. Maybe, I allowed myself to fantasize, they were doing it because it was the right thing to do. Of course I knew that the colonel and his beef with these Seminole people was screaming wrongfulness. It made me realize that my cowardliness for survival was also wrong. Why should I fight with these mean and their hatred of half the race and preventing them from having their freedom?

These thoughts floated in my head till the early morning hours. Mounting our horses again, we moved back to the village. This time, the colonel opted not to go into the village like before, but to make use of the cannon. It was set up on a high rock face, aimed down towards the unsuspecting villagers. A knot formed in my stomach as I heard the order given and the cannon fired down, hitting the cliff face on the other side. People scrambled for safety, women and children screaming. Darcy gave the command to swing it around and fire again, this time it landed near the homes. Anderson ordered for the elevation to be dropped and another cannon ball was fired. Stepping up to the colonel, I tried to talk him out of all of this.

"Colonel, with a place like this and no real fortification. Is it necessary to waste our ammunition here?"

"Waste?" The colonel grabbed me roughly by the arm and turned me to look at the dead members of our group that had been tossed here the night before. "Men who survived the battles of Shiloh and Bull Run. Finer sons of the south and they die _here._ " The colonel pushed me away, "I'll wipe this place off the face of the earth. I'll fire rocks if I have to. Fire!"

Another shot was fired and continued to go on. The colonel eventually grew tired from standing and went into the pitched tent. Waiting a few minutes to try and figure out what was best to say that would get through to him and not get me killed, I walked in.

He was undoing the brace he had on his leg and checking the infection that was growing around his knee. I did my best to keep my eyes from looking at it. He was drinking from the bottle again, and I caught a glimpse of the label. Laudanum. Taking off my hat, I dusted it off a bit in thought.

"I didn't go to West Point." I began, "Really I'm like the rest of the soldiers with no real rank—"

"Well you're captain now, so speak captain." Slurred the injured man.

 _So much for my truthful approach._

"I was thinking that if allow them the chance of surrendering then we could potentially save ammunition."

"We thank you for your advice, captain," he said, clearly not appreciating it at all, "just keep firing."

"Colonel, they're poor defenseless people." I said, thinking about the women and children, hell even the old people.

"They're hard killers, Standish, those men. Not soldiers."

"And maybe we're just underestimating them, sir."

"Keep firing." Growled Anderson.

I knew I couldn't push my luck and moved back out of the tent. Deciding not to stay and watch, but take a half a dozen men with me to keep watch from any surprise attack.

As if on cue, and Indian was coming around the corner, having climbed up the back way. Damnit if Darcy didn't get on my nerves, he even was smug about killing him. The rest of the men were pointing their guns down where the Indian had come from. Walking around with the sergeant, I found the hired men all standing there, having just finished climbing up the side of the cliff.

"I suggest you surrender, or you could die where you stand." I said, hoping the men would do the right thing. Hell what was the right thing anymore.

We took the prisoners back with us and the colonel came out of his tent. He talked about battle in Shiloh where they were attacked and he was left for dead. I listened, having already heard the story before, but figured he was just repeating it so our prisoners could hear. I watched as each of the men were handcuffed. The darkie struggling the most, no doubt familiar with the feeling up being in chains. When he finished reliving the nightmares that plagued him, he declared that we would raise our flag over their land before killing our prisoners.

I walked along as preparations were being made. The prisoners were made to walk in a line as we led them into position for execution.

I half listened to their conversation and was surprised at seeing a youngster among them. He was dressed in clothes almost in similar fashion like the ones I used to wear. Most likely from the east compared to his companions. They were entertaining to listen to, compared to the somber people I was forced to ride with for years.

When the colonel and the rest of the men went to set up to raise the flag down below, I walked by the prisoners, pretending to check that everything was in order. After years of doing what I thought was right because of fear, I decided not to let that govern my life anymore. Most who knew me in the group, weren't aware of the number of weapons I kept on my person. The one up my sleeve for example. I had been making notes of the hired men and how they each fought. One of them, the guy in black, was stealthily pulling his hand through the handcuff. It looked incredibly painful and pretended not to notice so as not to draw attention to what he was doing. Stopping in front of the man who wore a buckskin with his hands casually folded in his lap with his legs stretched out, I prayed this wouldn't come to bite me later. I triggered the release of my derringer and seven pairs of eyes looked at me and then the gun. Kicking up dust as well as kicking the man's foot, I dropped the little gun at his feet.

"Move your legs from my walk way." I said.

He pulled them towards himself as well as the gun. All-the-while looking up at me. I couldn't do more than that for now. Turning my back to him felt nerve wrecking and I walked back up next to Darcy and the cannon.

"They'll be raising the flag soon."

"Well I wouldn't want to miss that." I said and then drew my Remington and pointed it at Darcy. "Nobody move or he's dead."

The rest of the seven men watched in confusion. Hell I was confused as to what I was doing.

There were eight of them against me and hopefully the man in the buckskin who would help back me up.

"The hell are you doing, Standish."

"Surviving. That and leaving." I said.

"You'll only get one shot off before we take you."

"Then how about I take all of you." I said, pointing my gun at the powder keg next to the cannon.

"That's empty." Darcy chuckled.

I didn't have a chance before the rest of the men were aiming their guns at me. Hell, if I survived this, I was going to drink _a lot_ for having to deal with all of this rebelling.

"Drop it." Darcy ordered. I sighed and dropped my gun. Stealing a glance towards the prisoners, I noticed that the soldier guarding them had his back turned to them.

The drums began to play down below. I smiled.

"Made a mistake trying to turn on us."

"You're right, I should've done it sooner." I pulled out my colt and shot Darcy in the chest. The man in black had managed to slip his hand out of his chains and grabbed the guard. I shot another man while I heard two more shots fired from behind me. The man in black ad took the guards gun and the man in the buckskin had shot another man. The ones we didn't shoot were put into chains. When the short-lived action was over, I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. That actually went better than I thought. I pulled out the keys and tossed it to the blond man in black. I retrieved their gun belts and began handing them out. After a few seconds of unchaining the others, the blond man stood up suddenly and looked me right in the eye.

"You're out numbered, three to one. Now I can help. I know his methods."

"Why should we let you?"

"Because I want what you want. For this all to stop."

"Is that why you turned on your friends?" asked the darkie.

"I'm tired of living like this. You take out Anderson and the rest will gladly walk away. Sergeant Darcy, well I got tired of him blowing his foul breath at me."

"Just so you know," said the man in black, "you try and flip sides again and I'll shoot you myself."

I tipped my hat in a salute and walked away.

They had me at the cannon up top. When a group of soldiers rode up, most likely to check what was going on, I stopped them and had them surrender. It helped a little with seeing several bodies on the ground. I lit the fuse with a cigar that I was happily smoking, saved for when I was finally to return home. I sent the flag and those around it flying. I gave my last salute to it with a grin, smoke streaming out of the side of my mouth. The seven men down there began firing and I made my way down to assist. I watched as several bullets hit the colonel but he still stayed on his horse. Just making it to the ground level, I watched as the green horned young man broke cover and tried to shoot Anderson. Another one of the men stepped in front, just in time to get hit with the colonel's sword. When another one of the seven went to recover their fallen comrade, he was shot in his side, trying to shield him. The darkie ran out and instead of trying to shoot the colonel, he used a knife and stabbed him deep in his upper thigh. Anderson was thrown off his horse but he pushed himself to his feet. I decided it was time to end things. I shot him in his hand, trying to get him to stop on his own. He turned to me in surprise.

"This has to stop, sir."

"Standish. After all I've done for you." Grunted Anderson.

I pulled the hammer back, not wanting to take the final shot but would if necessary.

"You're nothing but a coward." Sneered Anderson, raising his gun towards me.

Before he could level it at me, I heard a shot fired and the colonel fell to the ground. This time, not getting up. I turned to the man in blond before moving to check the body.

"He's actually dead." I said, almost not believing it myself.

The rest of the soldiers dispersed, making their way back to their homes where they hadn't been in years. Now what was in store for me?


	4. Chapter 4

"Where are you headed now?" asked the man in buckskin who introduced himself as Vin Tanner.

"A dustbowl of a town named Four Corners. I have somethings left there in the bank." I said, remembering said items.

"We're headed that way." Chris said.

"Might I trouble you if I ride with you?" I asked pointedly to Nathan Jackson.

The man nodded and I relaxed a little.

Arriving in town, I went to the bank and retrieved my things from the safe box I had there. My clothes were all still there. Next I took a nice hot bath in clean water and just let the tension of years die away, then shaved the annoying facial hair I had acquired. When I was dressed in my fine clothes; wearing my starch white shirt, vest and red jacket, I walked outside, placing my Mississippi riverboat hat on my head. Feeling myself again, I pulled out my deck of cards and played with them in my hand as I walked down the board walk. Six of the seven were seated in the saloon and I rose an eyebrow in question of where the seventh was.

"Francis decided he was going to head on back home." Buck supplied. "Hell, you're dressed mighty fancy. Heading out yourself?"

"Not for a while. I've been on the trail for years. Right now, all I want is some fine whiskey, a card game and then a warm bed."

"Can't argue with that." Vin chuckled.

Just then they heard noises outside and then two shots fired. Chris got up and walked out the door with the others following him. I debated on what to do, but then decided to follow. What I didn't know what was waiting for me, was my brand new future. With these six men and this town.


End file.
